The Dark Power
by Iarejedi
Summary: Anakin's POV after his mother's death and the slaughter of the Tuskens


A/N: Hello peoples once again. This is a short ficlet for Star Wars. Its Anakin's POV of what happened after he killed the Tusken Raiders and after his mom died. It came to me rather suddenly and out of no where. Hope you enjoy it and as always don't forget to review. 

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A scream of anguish slipped past his lips, as he dropped to his knees in the sand. He wavered for a moment before collapsing onto his stomach, face first in the sand. He didn't care about the sand. He only wished he could escape everything around him. He lay in the midst of burning huts and smoking bodies of the Tusken Raiders dwellings he had so utterly destroyed. Not a living thing moved. Everything was dead, killed by his own hands. The silence was terrifying. 

            He was scared. He felt like a lost boy once more in the twisted, cruel galaxy. He no longer had his mother to turn to or think of when times got rough. She was gone. Dead. And he was alone. There was no one for him to turn to right now. No one there to tell him it would all be alright.

            He had failed her.

            He buried his face in his arms, and began to sob. His fingers dug into the sand and gripped a fist full of it in each hand. Its coarseness only reminded him that this was not some terrible nightmare, but reality. A hellish reality. Tears streamed down his face, dropping into the sand only to disappear seconds later in the heat of the desert. He did not notice. He could only think of one thing over and over.

            He had failed her. 

            He hated himself for it. He should have been there for her. He should never have left his mother. He would have gladly stayed a slave if only it had meant keeping her safe. At least he would have been able to prevent what had happened. She would be alive and safe right now. How could he have let this happen? It was his fault. He knew it even though his heart tried to tell him he was wrong. He had been selfish and to ambitious. He had thought only of himself and what he would gain if he went with the Jedi. He didn't think of what would become of his mother. Selfish, he had been so selfish.

            Not even his Jedi training had saved her. His training had been all for not when he needed it most. He was weak, and his power not strong enough to cheat death for his mother. He should have come the moment he had begun to have those terrible nightmares-about her in pain and dying- more than a month ago. He had refused to believe them, to acknowledge that his mother would ever be in danger of death. He shouldn't have listened to Obi-wan, who had said they were merely a reaction to all the stress and worry of being a Jedi. He had felt all along that the dreams were visions, premonitions of something to come, but he had not listened to them. It had cost him dearly.

            No longer would he be able to see her smiling, kind face or hear her warm reassuring voice. He could no longer reach her. She was one with the Force, like Qui-Gon. It comforted him a little to know Qui-Gon might be with her, watching over him. It also helped to know that she had died happy because of him, because she got to see him one more time. 

            He lifted his face from his arms and his eyes swept over the ruin of the Tusken camp. He had done all this. He alone, in his rage and grief had taken his revenge on these poor creatures. What struck him like a blow to his body was the mangled, still smoking remains of a Tusken child. He'd killed that child, taken away its youth and its life in one terrible sweep of his lightsaber. He had not just killed the men, but all the women and children. Everything, even down to those creatures they kept like dogs. He was a murderer.

            The very thought made him blanch.

               _Murderer!_

            His mother would not be proud of him now if she saw him, if she saw what he had done. He was no longer that sweet, innocent boy that she had known. The little boy had been jaded. He had the deaths of dozens of lives on his hands. He trembled at the thought. He had never meant to kill anyone. He had killed before and had never wanted to do it again. Yet, he had and what scared him the most was it had been the same dark power he had used to kill before. This power lurking ever inside of him that taunted him, baiting him. It could make him great. It could make him strong and invincible. It offered him everything he had ever wanted in his life. It also made him a murderer.  A killer. A monster. Yet, its greedy touch was ever reaching for him. It chilled him in his soul. It made his blood run cold.

            Another wordless scream of torment escaped him.

            Was this what his mother had wanted her son to be? A senseless killer? He was no hero. He would never be the hero so many had believed him to be. He was not the Chosen One. There was no way he could bring balance to the galaxy, if he could not even have balance within himself. It was all a lie. It had always been a lie. Even he had been blinded by that lie. It had only covered up his true nature. He would believe it no longer. He had lost faith in himself.

               "I'm not a murderer!" he cried out, desperately trying to convince himself and the dead around him of this. There was no one to hear him. There was no one to believe him or make him believe what he had just said.

            The silence was terrifying.

            He hated it. He hated it because he had caused it. 

            Where had all this hatred come from? He had never used to have such pain and hatred in his heart. He certainly hadn't asked for it. Still it was there, threatening to consume him. It so utterly terrified him that this darkness was growing inside him. He could not find away to push it back. It was because of this hatred and pain that the aggression in him had been unleashed. He wasn't a murderer. He certainly wouldn't ever kill another sentient being if he was in his right mind. He hated death.

            His mother would not want to see him like this. This cold blooded killer lying in the midst of the dead with their blood stained on his hand. He was no better than the Tuskens. Senseless, cruel animals that enjoyed the pain of others. He had become a monster like them. He had let the dark power take over. 

            It was this deadly power that Master Yoda had sensed in him. This power that Obi-Wan was always warning him about. It was his potential abilities to use this power, like he had tonight, that had made Yoda so unwilling to train him. The Council should have listened to Yoda. He was not fit to be a Jedi. Yoda had been right along about him. He was to dangerous. He had proved it tonight once more.

            His fingers dug further into the sand. He took pleasure in the pain as it grated and rubbed angrily against his skin and bit into the soft flesh under his nails. Anything to help take his mind off the thoughts haunting him. The wind swept over the burning huts, blowing the smoke away in great billowing clouds. The acrid smell of the smoke almost made him gag. It swept over him, seeming to whisper in his ear the words he was trying to block out.

               _Murderer_…._monster….__you killed them…….._

               "No!" he shouted to the wind. "I didn't!"

            He kept yelling this over and over, trying to block out the wind's voice. His thoughts were a mottled mess and in his torment he was becoming delusional. He was unable to figure out that it wasn't the wind speaking to him but his own inner voice taunting him. He kept seeing the frightened faces of those he cut down with his glowing saber. He kept hearing their screams and grunts of fear and pain. The wind continued to whisper horrific things to him. 

            The last face he saw was his mother's crying out to him. She was pleading with him for help. He felt helpless and useless in his own inability to save her. He couldn't save her. She was gone. 

            Blackness crept into his vision. His thoughts slowed and stopped altogether. In the back of his mind he was relieved. He collapsed back onto the sand, his cheek pressing into its rough embrace.

            He had failed her.

            This was his last conscious thought before the darkness took him. 

Finis!

P.S.

Don't forget to review!!!!!


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